Simple and Innocent
by AranthianPrincess
Summary: GG/SS Pre-Slash! It's been many months since Salazar left Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A surprising letter from an unexpected source sends him rushing back.


_A/N: This is my first attempt at a HP pairing other than Harry/Draco. I was browsing through the fics for this pairing and decided that there weren't nearly enough. So, this fic was born. It's only a one-shot, but if I get the urge, I can see more stories for these two, especially about their separation. The title comes from the song I was listening to as I wrote this, "Apple and Cinnamon" by Utada Hikaru._

Salazar Slytherin stared at the carefully folded parchment laying innocently on his desk in the house where he lived alone in the country, far away from the bustling cities and tiny villages rife with Muggles. The letter was a surprise and clearly much more sinister than it's simple cream color could possibly convey. With a sigh, Salazar sat at his desk and picked up the parchment, slitting the Hogwarts crest seal deftly with his wand.

A quick look at the signature had Salazar's brow wrinkling in confusion. Both Helga and Rowena's names could be seen there, but not Godric's as he had expected. What could possibly be going on at that school that would necessitate the two female founders writing him without Godric's knowledge? For that was the only way Godric's signature would be absent. The four founders always signed all their names if it was official Hogwarts business, which could be the only reason for their contacting him. Surely it could have nothing to do with...? No, Godric would not want him back after nearly a year away. Never. Salazar pushed the depressing thought from his mind and jumped back to the beginning of the letter.

_Dear Salazar,_

_We hope this letter finds you well. Unfortunately, we must interrupt your peace to bring you terrible news. Godric has fallen ill and has been so for many months now. Neither of us can pinpoint the start of this sickness, nor what physically ails him. It has so far resisted all treatments we could think of to try, which you know is many thanks to our combined knowledge in spells and plants._

_Rowena has done as much research as Hogwarts' extensive library will allow and has found no curse or ailment with similar symptoms. We have exhausted all possible avenues save one. You. It has come to our attention, thanks to some Muggleborn students, that Godric exhibits symptoms of what Muggles call a "broken heart." We do not know precisely what it means, but have gathered it is figurative rather than literal._

_According to the students, it occurs when one loses someone dear to them, someone with whom they have an unbreakable bond. The students claim this only happens with lovers. They seem to think this "broken heart" afflicts only women whose husbands have left them in traumatic ways, like death or abandonment. However, since it is Godric suffering this ailment and both Rowena and I have suffered no causal rifts in our relationships with him, we thought perhaps the students may not understand the illness much better than us._

_After considerable puzzling among the both of us, Rowena finally discovered the truth as we now know it. It was she who realized what your and Godric's concurrent absences in recent years meant and managed to connect that with Godric's symptoms and what we know of his illness. We know you must have had an intimate relationship with him while you were still here, Salazar._

_Therefore, it is on Godric's behalf that we write to you now. It has been nearly a year since your departure. We only started noticing Godric's symptoms six months ago. Who knows how long he suffered under the affliction before that? Though I would venture to say it was since the day you left. The students claim the symptoms do not begin to show right away, and usually take several months to become obvious._

_He needs you back here, Salazar. Rowena and I have tried everything. We even brought in specialists from all over Britain to examine him. It was no easy task. Godric fought the whole time, though as the months wore on, his protests grew weaker. Godric is dying, Salazar. If nothing can be done for him soon, the healers say he will be dead within the week._

_Please, if you have any goodwill remaining toward your once friend, come back to Hogwarts, even if it is only to sit by his deathbed._

_Sincerely,_

_Helga Hufflepuff_

_Rowena Ravenclaw_

Salazar let the letter drop from his limp fingers and drift to the floor. He could only sit staring at the far wall. His heart was pounding and his breath came in short, fast gasps. It was like the world was collapsing in on him. _Godric is dying. He will be dead._ No other thoughts could break through that vicious circle of terror and agony Salazar could feel constricting his heart and lungs.

_If you have any goodwill remaining._ A single thought broke through, one that stung his pride and riled him into outrage. How could they possibly think that?! How could they believe Salazar hated them, _hated Godric_, so much that he would not immediately rush to the other man's side in an instant? Yes, he may have differed violently with all of them, but that did not mean he wished his best friend and lover dead. The fact that Rowena and Helga had revealed they knew of his and Godric's relationship did not even register as important in Salazar's mind.

Immediately, the wayward founder grabbed his wand and flicked it toward the center of his study. Trunks appeared on the floor, rattling as books, parchment, quills, potions equipment and ingredients, and clothing packed themselves into them. The lids snapped shut with an efficient finality that earned Salazar's approval before he flicked his wand again and sent them directly to Hogwarts, following behind without even a second's hesitation. Salazar would be moving back into Hogwarts castle tonight and he would make certain Godric survived his illness.

A gasp echoed throughout the room as Salazar entered Godric's chambers. He had inquired at the Hospital Wing first, but was told Godric had been moved to his own quarters in an attempt to make him comfortable in his last days. The room was just as Salazar remembered, covered in scarlet and gold drapery, tapestries of grand battles, and banners of golden lions rampant on fields of blood red. The only differences were the obviously ill Godric practically smothered by his bedclothes and the two women who stood vigil over his prone form.

Helga was looking at him with wondrous disbelief and unshed tears glittering in her eyes while Rowena merely cast him a suspicious, and rather unfriendly, glare. Fortunately, Rowena did not see the need to throw him out, probably because it was she herself who had discovered Godric's need to have him here. Helga must have had a hand in convincing the taller woman as well, for a restraining hand was placed on Rowena's arm even as the other covered Helga's mouth.

"You came back," Helga gasped out, hand moving from her mouth to rest above her heart.

"Of course I did," Salazar replied, his gaze never leaving Godric's gaunt, sunken face. "May I have a few moments alone with him?"

Though stated as a question, the two women could hear the hard tones of a command behind the words. He was not asking so much as telling them he wanted to be alone with Godric. Helga moved immediately to exit the room, only pausing when she realized Rowena was standing resolutely still with a suspicious stare fixed on him.

"Come, Rowena, you know he will not harm Godric," Helga insisted, tugging at the other woman's arm. "What more damage could he possibly inflict? He can only help at this stage."

Rowena nodded reluctantly, gliding toward the door in a very regal manner. She did pause once more to murmur one final threat to him. "I am watching you, Salazar. You have done him a great disservice once already. Cause him any more harm and there will be nowhere on this fair earth from which you will be safe from my wrath."

With that she swept out of the room, Helga following her after casting a nervous glance Salazar's way. He ignored them both and refused to move even an inch until he heard the door shut safely behind him. Then he took four long, hurried strides, practically sprinting, to Godric's side.

He knelt next to the bed, fingers brushing limp, pale red hair from a much too pale and sweaty forehead. Godric's cheeks were sunken as were his closed eyes. The skin was even paler than usual. Salazar could believe Godric had been castle-bound for months. And, from the looks of it, the man had not been eating, or sleeping if one could judge by the dark rings under his eyes. Salazar wondered when the man had last slept a night through, if he ever had before this illness forced him into unconscious exhaustion.

His fingers trailed gently down that beloved face, occasionally brushing against formerly soft strands of hair. Now it lay limp and lifeless around Godric's face. The previously vibrant red color faded to a dull hue. Godric's arms lay atop the blankets draped over his body, which appeared much smaller than it should even with the added bulk. Salazar examined them next, noting the boniness of arms, hands, and fingers. What muscle Godric had had before was now gone, replaced with thin, ashen skin.

Salazar could see no more, feeling his heart constrict even more and his stomach heave with the urge to be sick. Godric had obviously been sick for a very long time. The thought that he hadn't been around to prevent this made Salazar want to rage, but he knew he couldn't. That would not help Godric right now. The only thing Salazar could do was be here for him. Maybe seeing him returned would give Godric the will to fight, that determination Salazar so admired in him.

"Godric..." He murmured, lips as close to the other man's ear as he could get without losing sight of Godric's face. "Wake up, love. I've come home."

A choked whining sound escaped Godric's throat and Salazar's heart twisted painfully. Godric was too ill to even moan properly. All the sounds left to him being those of broken and dying men. Nevertheless, Salazar caressed Godric's face and continued to whisper gentle encouragements and reassurances until green eyes fluttered open to meet his with disbelief and painful hope. Salazar was shocked, though not by the emotions he saw there, but by the deadened look of those eyes, eyes that had always blazed with the fire of either fierce passion or brave determination.

"Sal... Real... You...?" Godric's voice was a croaked whisper.

"Yes, Godric. It's really me. I'm here. Everything is going to be alright now," Salazar murmured, grasping Godric's too thin hand.

"Stay...?"

"Of course I'll stay with you."

Godric curled his chilled fingers around Salazar's hand who winced at the cold feel of them, though he was careful to hide that from Godric. The redhead looked up with pleading eyes, moist with unshed tears. Salazar could see the faint glittering from the reflected firelight as Godric tugged weakly on his hand.

"With... Me..." He choked out, staring meaningfully at the silver-haired man. Even on his deathbed Godric could be more stubborn than was good for him. However, Salazar could deny this man nothing he asked for, especially when he lay near death because of him.

"Of course," Salazar whispered.

He placed Godric's hand gently on his stomach and lifted a corner of the blankets, trying hard not to look at the emasculated body of his lover, and slipped into the bed. As soon as he was settled and had the blankets tucked back in around them, he could feel Godric shifting weakly in an attempt to maneuver himself closer to Salazar.

"Careful," Salazar admonished gently, leaning up on one elbow and stilling Godric with his other hand before wrapping that arm around his much too thin waist and carefully rolling him over so he was cradled against Salazar's chest. "Rest now, love. All will be better in the morning."

Godric closed his eyes obediently, his breathing evening out almost immediately. Salazar had to admit that the man sounded better than when he had first arrived. It was several hours later when Salazar felt he could fall asleep as well, confidant that Godric would still be alive in the morning. At dawn, Rowena and Helga came to check up on them only to find Godric held in Salazar's close embrace sleeping peacefully for the first time in months.

A month had passed and Godric was slowly moving out of the danger zone. He was looking a little better and had finally regained enough strength to sit up for hours at a time in his bed. He still wasn't roaming the castle corridors or anything, but Salazar took heart in Godric's steady improvement. He knew it would take time for the other man to recover after such a devastating illness.

Salazar still lived in Godric's chambers, only leaving to bathe and change his clothes. All his items were stored in his former dungeon rooms, much too far away from Godric for Salazar's liking. He would much rather spend his days lounging about with Godric and making sure the stubborn man didn't do anything too rash while he was healing. Salazar kept a strict watch on the redhead, careful to not restrict his independence while keeping the adorable idiot from killing himself. To that end, though Salazar lived in the same rooms as Godric, he refused to sleep in the same bed after that first night. Instead, he opted for a conjured cot in the corner.

He and Godric had spent the time after their reunion catching up and getting to know each other again. They laughed together and told stories just like old times, seemingly having forgotten the fight that had originally torn them apart. Salazar remembered it at odd times and it would throw him into a melancholy state. Godric would give him an odd look when this happened and attempt to distract him with a witty remark or ill-conceived attempt to get out of bed. This was followed by scolding from Salazar and light laughter that would dissolve into a coughing fit and have Salazar embracing Godric in an attempt to soothe him.

But Salazar was no fool. He knew Godric was remembering their argument as well. He could see the green eyes dim as his glazed stare turned toward the window. Salazar knew Godric wasn't focused on the scenery, beautiful as it was, but reflecting on the past. He didn't know how much pain it caused Godric to remember and he wished he could do something to take that away. But what? Salazar didn't know and neither of them was willing to bring it up.

One day the tension finally grew so much that Godric just snapped. Salazar really should have known this would happen. Godric had always been prone to rash actions and a leap-before-you-look mentality. So it really shouldn't have come as such a shock to Salazar when Godric suddenly burst out into a series of apologies so intense that he ended up bent over in another of his coughing fits, this one much worse than any before.

Salazar was at his side in an instant, kneeling on the bed and wrapping comforting arms around the other man, whispering soothing words into Godric's ear. His hands rubbed gentle circles into the still much too thin back, rhythmically bumping over the raised vertebrae in Godric's spine. Finally, after several minutes that felt more like hours, Godric's coughing ceased and he was able to lean back against the pillows, staring at Salazar imploringly.

"You don't have to apologize, Godric," Salazar insisted, brushing a lock of ever reddening hair out of the other man's face. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"Yes, I do!" Godric sat up straight again, resisting Salazar's attempts to push him back. "If it hadn't been for me you wouldn't have left in the first place."

"Godric, I was the one who suggested my own departure due to our disagreement. You never would have taken me up on it if I hadn't told you to."

"No, Salazar! I was just angry. I didn't mean for you to leave. I didn't mean it. I only said it because I was angry and I was taking my anger out on you," Godric insisted. "I don't care about that argument anymore. Teach whoever you see fit. I won't interfere. Just, please, don't leave me again."

Salazar gazed down at Godric's huge, round eyes with a saddened look of his own. "You're not supposed to be like this, Godric. You're supposed to be a fighter and fight for what you believe. I can't force you to change your beliefs just to keep me around. It's not right."

Godric only stared at him in disbelief before a wide, mischievous grin spread across his face. It lit up the other man's features, burning fiercely bright reminiscent of his former glory. Although, the sly smirk was a bit of a surprise. If Salazar didn't know better, he would say he was rubbing off on Godric. Nevertheless, Godric's odd reaction kept Salazar silent long enough for the redhead to continue his plea.

"But that doesn't mean we can't compromise," Godric pointed out, and Salazar had a sudden, sneaking feeling that he knew what his love was about to say. "The students are already Sorted into Houses and we kept your requirements for your House. Can't we just agree to disagree and keep our preferences for students within our own Houses? It is not so important that it has to cause an irreparable rift between us. Frankly, Salazar, I don't care who you want to teach, as long as you treat the students fairly when dealing with them and don't try to change my views. Can you do that? Can you let my beliefs exist alongside yours and hold the same importance?"

Salazar stared at Godric in wonder. The earnest expression on his face tugging at his heartstrings. It took a moment for Godric's words to really sink in and register through the guilty turmoil in his mind. Godric was serious. He really believed it was possible for them to reconcile and live together peacefully. This thought required some time to process, but apparently he had kept silent for too long because Godric was talking again, his words coming so quickly that Salazar had to concentrate to understand him.

"I know it won't keep us from ever fighting about everything, but we can at least keep from fighting about this. We can both have what we want. Right?"

Godric's expression had grown more desperate and his fingers were clenched in Salazar's robes as he leaned forward. Salazar couldn't help himself. His hands came up slowly, fingers curling around Godric's and gently disentangling them from their death grip. Salazar's pale fingers smoothed down Godric's arm, caressing the skin as he looked deep into green eyes.

"Are you sure, Godric? Do you really believe it is possible for us?"

Salazar hated asking those questions. It made him sound weak, but he needed the reassurance. Too much had already happened. Too much had been lost. He could have lost Godric forever because of his own foolishness and that was just something he was not willing to risk again. Godric, however, straightened as much as he could and glared at him, a glare as fierce as any he had given before the illness.

"You said before that I was naturally a fighter, Salazar," the redhead reminded him, staring straight into Salazar's eyes. "Well, I've chosen to fight for you. I know the battle will be hard, particularly since you are so vexingly stubborn, but I always win. Remember that."

He couldn't help it. Salazar laughed aloud. It was a joyful sound, one he had thought never to make again after he left Hogwarts, but Godric always could bring out the best and worst traits in him. It just so happened Godric spent much more time proving Salazar had those good traits despite Salazar's attempts to preserve his harsher reputation.

Godric glared harder, not very happy with being laughed at or, should that not be the case, being left out of the humor. This only made Salazar laugh harder and gently embrace his beloved idiot. No matter how happy and excited he was, Salazar would not forget Godric's current fragility, but he looked forward to the day when he wouldn't have to.

"I see," Salazar finally said after regaining his breath. "You truly are the embodiment of everything your House teaches even after going through such a horrible experience. I almost cannot believe you are real, but I desperately hope you are." Salazar paused to brush a strand of fiery hair from a wide-eyed Godric's face. "Because I don't think I could possibly leave you again."

"Then don't. Stay here with me," Godric suggested, his eyes brighter than they had been a month ago, almost the same as they once were when Salazar was a permanent fixture in his life. "It's a simple request. And an innocent one. I want you with me. Forever. Please, will you stay?"

Salazar watched Godric's expression flit between desire, nervousness, uncertainty, and fear. It struck him that the negative emotions should never outweigh the positive ones on the face of the man he loved. If he had the power to prevent that, shouldn't he? Salazar wasn't sure, not having ever cared for someone as much as he did for Godric, but he thought he should. So, the answer was obvious, once he decided that.

"Simple and innocent. Yes, I think you are correct. It is quite a simple, and very innocent, request. But you are not and that is why I will stay, because my answer is simple and, surprisingly, innocent, too."

Godric chuckled at Salazar's innocent joke, a smile softening his sharp features, a leftover side effect of his illness. Still, curiosity was in his eyes as he watched Salazar, clearly awaiting an explanation or further answer. Salazar was all too willing to give him one. As many times as he wanted. In as many forms as they could both conceive of.

"Because I want to stay here with you. Forever," Salazar smiled then, a gentle curving of lips that was not meant to scare, but to reassure. He thought it worked because Godric promptly relaxed, leaning toward his blond lover.

"You are most definitely a git, but I still love you," he said matter-of-factly.

"I know," Salazar answered, trying to conceal a grin when Godric poked him in the side, chuckling instead. "I love you, too, Godric. And I always will."


End file.
